


Reformation for Revolution

by lilbunlvr95



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Beaches, Crossdressing, Drugs, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Lovers, Hot Surfers, M/M, Oral Sex, Smut, Threesome - M/M/M, Top!Yunho, Woosan, bottom!hongjoong, bottom!mingi, but nothing hard, lifeguard yunho, pining mingi, san and wooyoung being shameless, seonghwa being beautiful, seongjoong, switch!san, switch!wooyoung, switch!yeosang, top!seonghwa, yungi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 12:56:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19724101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilbunlvr95/pseuds/lilbunlvr95
Summary: The Beach AU we all wanted. Hongjoong's in love with his best friend Seonghwa. Wooyoung and San are shameless. And Mingi is in a constant struggle to impress the cute lifeguard Yunho.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ever since I saw the trailer for Wave I knew I needed to write this. This is purely for my own enjoyment so it's not open to critiques. 
> 
> Follow me to be mutuals at twitter: @lilkabocha

“Surf’s up, dude!” 

“Whoa bro, look at those waves!” 

“Wait a second, dude, I don’t think that’s a wave!” 

“That looks like a giant shark!!!” 

“Why are you watching this shit movie?” San asks as screaming from the television floods the room. He’s sipping from a juice pouch, emptying it from the tangy taste and sucking the air out of it hard enough where it nearly flattens. 

“In case there’s ever a giant shark tornado, I’ll know what to do,” Wooyoung comments, eyes only flickering off the screen to watch as San’s lips are enthusiastically wrapped around the tiny plastic straw. He watches as San discards the pouch, tossing it aside, most likely for Seonghwa to clean up later. 

The room is thick and warm without much air ventilation, the windows closed to provide somewhat of a haven from the summer’s humidity. There’s a fan blowing circles into the living room in the corner, barely grazing them with relief every few seconds as it makes its swiveling circuit. 

San’s eyes meet Wooyoung’s, holding his gaze for a prolonged moment. A heat flares up in Wooyoung, kindling between his hips just as his heart rate picks up. With the way San doesn’t blink, staring him down, he knows the feeling is mutual. 

Wooyoung reaches out, fingers grasping for the sleeveless sides of San’s shirt, the cotton material soft and easy to tangle into. He pulls San into his lap, the thinner boy slotting right against him, toned thighs bracketing his hips. Wooyoung’s palms immediately frame his bare legs, smoothing upwards until he reaches the hem of those tiny, jersey shorts. They trail past to the sides of his ass cheeks, strong fingers squeezing into them as he hears San elicit a pleased exhale. His fingertips reach the back of his shirt, feeling the slight dampness from the heat. 

Tilting his chin upwards, Wooyoung presses warm kisses to San’s heated skin. His lips frame the sharp jut of his chin, following down the angular curve of his neck to his Adam’s apple. He sucks the arch, a throaty hum leaving him. 

It’s sweltering in the living room. Wooyoung can feel the way his back sticks to the couch, his shirt feeling sticky on his skin. But no way is he going to stop kissing San when his hands find their way under his shirt onto his skin. San’s abdomen is taut, showing the results of what long days surfing in the ocean can do. As his fingertips find the buds of his nipples, he teases them between his thumbs and forefingers, listening to the strained moan it earns. 

San’s lithe hips start to grind into him, slow and languid, much like the Sunday morning waves on the beach. He can feel the hard press of his arousal, one of his hands dropping from his shirt in favor of slipping under the bottom hem of those loose shorts. They easily slide right under, and when he finds that San’s not wearing any underwear, he smirks. “You’re so bad, baby. Letting your dick run free like that.” 

“Shut up, it can’t be tamed,” is San’s quick response, earning a chuckle out of Wooyoung. Warm breath is sealed into San’s neck as he starts to kiss him more feverishly, quickly moving his lips lower as his hand pushes up his shirt. When he has it yanked all the way up, he eagerly leans in to attach his lips wetly to one of his pert nipples. He’s lapping at it, heavy and slow as he groans at the taste of sweat and skin. 

Meanwhile, his hand below has found San’s arousal, lazily letting the dripping tip circle along his thumb. His hand drags down the hardened shaft, smearing some of the pre along the way to guide his rhythm. He strokes him, fingers grasping around the base right above the small patch of hair nestled there. His fist tightens and moves back up when--

“Oh my god, right in the front of my fucking salad?!” 

“You’re not eating a salad!” San quips out to Mingi. 

Mingi’s sitting at the four person dining table, his phone in one hand and a mostly eaten sandwich in the other. He has his large headphones sitting around his neck now, a look of outright disgust on his face as he’s staring at the pair on the couch. 

“Sorry,” Wooyoung sheepishly laughs as he pulls his hand free from San’s shorts. He makes a show of licking his palm and fingers clean, provoking Mingi to shudder and nearly implode. “Let’s go, babe,” he slaps at San’s thigh and they both scramble off the couch. 

As they run off to the room, passing by Mingi, he hears San say in too sweetly of a voice while flexing his biceps, “Don’t pretend like you don’t like watching, you dirty fuck.” 

Mingi sits there, feeling the slow rise of his soul leaving his body, hearing their bedroom door shut.

As he finishes up his sandwich, he hears the front door open this time, bringing with it a rustling of bags and voices. 

“I didn’t forget the lime, did I?” Seonghwa’s worried voice carries over as he sets his grocery bags on the kitchen counter, the space opening up to the small adjacent dining and living room. 

“No, it’s in the bag with the eggs,” Hongjoong tells him with a reassuring soft smile. 

Mingi wants to gag again, seeing the second pair of lovebirds in their house. Though the worst part about the two in front of him now is that they don’t even realize it yet. 

“Ah, you’re right,” Seonghwa smiles back as he starts unpacking the bags, this time his gaze so awfully shy and full of hearts. Mingi feels the responsibility to announce his presence for the second time today--correction, the second time in five minutes! He clears his throat loudly. Seonghwa jumps, blinking widely at Mingi and the first words out of his mouth to him are, “Where’s San and Wooyoung?” 

Mingi stands up with a huff, wiping crumbs off his swim shorts. His flower patterned shirt (he refuses to call it an Aloha shirt and will defend this to his grave if he must) hangs open to show the expanse of his long torso. “Where do you think?” he gives a pointed pout at the older two men, leaving his empty plate on the table. “I’m gonna go down to the beach!” he says a little sulkily because clearly he’s fifth wheeling in this house and he wants to just lay on the sand and stare at the cute lifeguard. 

“Are you going to see your boyfriend?” Hongjoong chuckles as he calls Mingi the fuck out. He’s also putting the gallon of milk into the fridge as Seonghwa keeps handing him the other items that need to be stored there. 

“He’s not my boyfriend! Just… a friendly neighborhood hero, who saves lives on the daily and you wish you could be so cool,” Mingi prides himself on that one as he grabs his keys and phone. It’s then he hears a withering moan coming from San and Wooyoung’s bedroom down the hall and he feels the burn in his ears. He’s yelling bye as he shoots himself out the door. 

“Why does it feel like we have three children?” Seonghwa asks with a self pitying sigh, his face a grimace as he thinks of how useless their three roommates are. He moves to retrieve the plate from the table, “He didn’t even wash his dish. And what’s this?!” He moves to the living room and picks up an empty juice pouch sucked dry. “Satan’s children! We’re raising little devils!” 

“Two angels raising a litter of baby demons. Sounds accurate,” Hongjoong laughs from the kitchen as he’s taking out the ingredients for the chicken tacos and guacamole dip that Seonghwa promised to make. It’s one of his favorite meals in the summer, his best friend telling him it’s a reward to celebrate his soon to be acceptance into graduate school. Hongjoong argued that he hadn’t received the acceptance letter yet but that means nothing to Park Seonghwa who’s his biggest cheerleader. 

As he leaves Seonghwa to his devices, knowing once he’s in the flow of cooking he prefers not to be disturbed, Hongjoong sits at the dining table with his laptop. He opens the computer and loads up a tab with his email, checking the inbox. A part of him feels too much like a millenial that he expects the university to be sending him an email right this instant. 

“Anything yet?” Seonghwa asks from the kitchen and Hongjoong looks up, spotting the soft gaze upon him. Seonghwa often has that look, knowing how much this means to Hongjoong who was the first to go to college in his family and hopefully the first to move on to grad school to study fashion. 

He shakes his head, moving on to his social media accounts. “Nah, not yet. I should hear back at the latest, the end of July, so I still have time,” he reasons, telling himself that his entrance essay about DIY clothing,  _ Reformation for Revolution: An Anti-Capitalist Artistic Agenda  _ wasn’t too pretentious. He could have easily written more than 1,000 words on how the renewable industry doesn’t just have to be monopolized by big business recycling companies and can be a personal restoration of the heart while also making use of the clothing items we already have. Marie Kondo would probably agree that there’s something special in recreating an old shirt to bring you joy again. 

As the time passes, Hongjoong spending a lot of his time looking at threads on Twitter and responding to his followers’ comments on his recent posts of his latest design, the room fills with the savory smell of Seonghwa’s cooking. Hongjoong spends a good portion of his time sneaking glances at him bustling around the kitchen, muttering to himself about the taste and wondering where the paprika is. There’s this blooming heat in his chest, one that often takes over his body without his permission when he looks at his best friend. Instead of trying to unpack what this startling heat could mean or why exactly his heart wants to leave its position and do twirls and drops, he simply pushes it aside. His mind reasons that it’s best not to explore that. 

A little later on when they’re done eating dinner, Hongjoong sits back in his seat with a content smile. “That was perfect as always,” he compliments, standing up to help clean the dishes. 

Seonghwa packs up the leftovers knowing San and Wooyoung will emerge from their love den eventually. “It’s only perfect because it’s your favorite,” Seonghwa smiles all too knowingly. 

They finish up, settling down for the night. Hongjoong’s sitting on the couch with Seonghwa’s head resting on his thighs. It’s one of those couches that’s frayed a little at the edges and the cushions are so soft you sink so far in it’s hard to get up. There’s too many memories on this couch to get rid of it, like the time Wooyoung thought they forgot his birthday only for them to surprise him with a cake, proceeding to smash it in his face getting cake bits all over. The look of horror on Seonghwa’s face at the amount of frosting on the cushions was worth every second of it. 

Hongjoong’s hand drops down to drift his fingers through Seonghwa’s hair, the strands a current sandy brown, blonde highlights running through thanks to the summer sun. His own hair is a deep red right now, the result of a bet gone wrong. Thankfully he’s great at home dye jobs and it came out looking fantastic. 

“Do you think Mingi’s ever going to get his number?” Seonghwa suddenly pipes up, breaking the silence between them other than the TV playing a rerun of a sitcom they often watch. 

Hongjoong smiles, thinking about their loud and awkward Mingi probably at the beach right now trying to interact with the lifeguard. He imagines it’s a lot of one sided over sharing that can either be endearing or terrifying. “Considering the sun’s already set,” Hongjoong glances out the window, “and he’s not back yet… nope, not at all,” he laughs at his own teasing of the younger man. 

Seonghwa laughs too, Hongjoong glancing down to see the profile of his smile. His jewelry adorned fingers run through those strands again, sweeping back his thick hair to show more of his features. Seonghwa always has this aura about him, exuding warmth and kindness, even in his most fretful of moments. One moment he could be nagging Hongjoong to clean up his mess in the room, and the next he’s offering him some freshly baked cinnamon rolls. 

Hongjoong thinks about what he’s going to do if he’s accepted into grad school, having to leave and move across the country. There’s a pang in his chest at the sole thought of having to leave Seonghwa behind--beautiful hearted Seonghwa who supports him so selflessly in everything he does. 

“You okay?” 

Hongjoong blinks a few times as he realizes Seonghwa is staring back up at him. Those dark eyes are focused on him, his lips parted in question as the light from the tv screen plays along those sculpted lines of his face. He can see how smooth his skin is from here, glistening on its own. As Hongjoong’s heart leaps, he shakes his head and averts his eyes back to the show. 

“Look at the old married couple,” comes a voice as he catches San entering the room followed closely by Wooyoung. San’s giving Hongjoong that look that always screams,  _ just fucking tell him you’re in love with him _ , in which Hongjoong shoots a frowny scowl back declaring,  _ I’m not in love with him, mind your own fucking business!  _

Wooyoung’s arms are melted around San and he’s attached to him as they walk into the kitchen. His mouth keeps pressing kisses into the back of San’s shoulder as he giggles into his skin. Hongjoong can see faint marks scattered along San’s neck and he knows by now not to mention them. 

Seonghwa being the mother that he is informs them right away, “Dinner’s in the fridge. Eat as much as you want, just make sure you put everything away when you’re done.” 

When he feels Seonghwa start to sit up, Hongjoong’s eyebrows raise in question. Before he can even ask, Seonghwa is answering him, “We should head to bed.” 

_ We. _ He uses ‘we’ and Hongjoong can’t say no to that, feeling himself falling into another wide smile. 

Nodding in agreement, they leave the television on for the two currently giggling in the kitchen. “We’re going to sleep!” Hongjoong announces to them, catching sight of Wooyoung currently nuzzling into San’s neck as his hand slips under the sleeveless shirt he’s wearing. Hongjoong sighs as he says in a very stern and effective voice, “Can you  _ not _ in the shared spaces?” 

They ignore him. He still stands by that tone being effective on most. A hand is suddenly in his own and he looks over to see Seonghwa smiling softly, leading him down the hall now. Hongjoong thinks his heart does another flip but he’s stuck in denial so he doesn’t linger on it. 

He lets Seonghwa wash up for bed first, playing around on his phone while he waits. The bedroom they share has a set of bunks. It was this or a shared bed and Hongjoong thought it’d be weird for two adult friends to share a bed. Besides, with the bunk he could use the rails to be another place for his accessories, having little hooks strung along the wood where his various necklaces and belts hang. More than half of them were proudly created by him or redesigned by him. 

The moment Seonghwa steps back into the room, Hongjoong looks over and he feels his breath taken away. Seonghwa tends to do that without even trying. He’s simply just rubbing the last of his moisturizer into his cheeks, his face so heartbreakingly fresh and clear. He’s wearing a simple white t-shirt with English lettering on the front, but what always gets Hongjoong is this pair of shorts that Seonghwa claims are his favorite. They’re made of the heavy knit cotton material that sweat pants are also made of, yet unlike pants, they’re ridiculously short. They’re so old and worn, there’s a hole right in the inner seam but Seonghwa refuses to throw them out for sentimental value. 

So Hongjoong is the one who has to suffer, being faced to confront his best friend’s long legs, curvy and smooth because he also shaves. Days spent in the sun on the beach makes them gloriously tan, a shade darker than Hongjoong. Sometimes Hongjoong can catch sight of his briefs he’s wearing underneath and tonight--Hongjoong draws in a sharp breath because it seems like Seonghwa isn’t wearing any. He looks away and focuses on connecting his phone to the charger. 

“Your turn,” Seonghwa announces in all too sweet of a tone. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Hongjoong brushes him off before he swings himself off the lower bunk and hurries out to the bathroom. He spends longer than normal washing his face, trying to drown himself free from those thoughts. Thoughts that he won’t admit to; thoughts that just aren’t appropriate. 

Upon his return, Hongjoong sees Seonghwa already settled in the top bunk, scrolling through his phone lazily. “Anything good?” he cheerfully asks as if he hadn’t just spent the last ten minutes cleansing himself from his sins. 

Seonghwa has the tightest smile, an almost pained look, “Look at how  _ cute _ this is.” He holds his phone out for Hongjoong to see, showing a picture of an adorable cat with round eyes and chunky paws, snuggling up to its owner. “Are we allowed to get a cat yet?” Seonghwa asks dreamily, causing Hongjoong to laugh as he turns the light off. 

“Do you have money for a cat?” Hongjoong teases.

He hears a heavy sigh in the dark, knowing that’s Seonghwa conceding to the very real answer, ‘no, they don’t have any extra money.’ The two of them have been working diligently to put their funds into repairing Hongjoong’s dad’s old car. They reasoned it’d be useful to have a vehicle they could alternate using, especially when some days walking home with heavy bags of groceries could be tiring, or when Wooyoung and San are running late to their community college classes and miss the bus. 

Hongjoong settles into his bed, pulling the blanket partially over his basketball shorts, the room slightly warm with the open window allowing a very faint breeze in. He lays there, staring at the bottom of the bunk above him. He can visualize Seonghwa is curled up on his side, blankets wrapped around him because no matter how warm it is, he’s a blanket fiend. Hongjoong theorizes it’s his need to feel hugged when falling asleep. 

Sometimes they’ll have late night talks, bringing up funny stories from the day or even ones from the past. Other times they’ll just share songs with one another and lay in silence, letting the music take them on their own mind adventures. At times like this, with silence blanketing over them, Hongjoong wonders if Seonghwa is doing the same as him: thinking about the future. 

Does he ask himself where they’ll be a year from now? Does he have internal dialogue about what their conversation will be like when discussing what they’ll do if Hongjoong’s accepted into grad school? Or is it just Hongjoong who worries? 

Hongjoong moves to lay on his side, staring into the darkness for a few moments before closing his eyes. It’s silent other than the steady breathing he hears from above, signaling to him that Seonghwa has already fallen asleep. 

Right before he also drifts off, Hongjoong then thinks as he imagines warm eyes and a soft smile, maybe he does have an irreversible crush on his best friend. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second update! I'm having a lot of fun writing this. If you don't like filthy smut, now is the time to exit. 
> 
> Follow my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/lilkabocha)!

“The beach! It’s been too long! Oh how I’ve missed you!” San drops his towel onto the sand and proceeds to walk with his arms out for an open embrace towards the water. Wooyoung shakes his head and grumbles as he’s left to spread the towels out and set up their base. He sees San walk into the oncoming crest of water, squealing out as the water must feel cold at first. 

Wooyoung shrugs off his button up shirt, folding it up and stowing it away in his bag. Once the towels are neatly laid out and he has various items keeping the corners down, from water bottles to a pair of flip flops, he starts to run down the bank of sand to join San. 

Mingi watches through his sunglasses as he sees Wooyoung tackle San into the water, both of them coming up to the surface and engaging in a water fight. He shakes his head and scrunches his nose as he returns to his book. It’s been open on the same page for the past ten minutes, the words blurring together as his focus keeps shifting to more important matters. 

He came earlier today to the beach, hearing from Jongho that his lifeguard crush was working the morning shift. 

As if on cue, Mingi sees the lifeguard trotting right by him, holding a bright red rescue board under his arm. The late morning sun catches on the water droplets adorning his skin, making him look like Adonis himself shimmering in the light. He’s tall and lean, legs for days. And that smile of his is absolutely cute, making anyone who visits the beach under his watch just coo and fawn. Not to mention there has got to be a sense of individualism with him, a daring side, for he has cotton candy blue hair. 

Jeong Yunho. A walking dream. 

Who could blame Mingi, really. 

“You might wanna close your mouth before more drool comes out,” Wooyoung blocks Mingi’s view of the lifeguard jogging along the beach. 

“Shouldn’t you be in the water playing with your boyfriend?!” Mingi exclaims back, getting defensive of his very vulnerable state. He didn’t want to be here with the inseparable pair but once he texted them he was down here, they showed up shortly after. 

Mingi pouts as he fixes his towel, seeing San and Wooyoung sit down on theirs to relax under the sun. 

“Babe, turn around,” San commands. 

“You already put sunscreen on,” Wooyoung whines, but like the soft doormat he is for his boyfriend, he turns so his back is to San. 

That’s when San kisses at each of Wooyoung’s shoulder blades, lingering little puckers of his lips against radiant skin. “A kiss for each of your butterfly wings~” he says disgustingly cutely. 

Mingi gags. 

Before he has to witness more of this atrocity, he sets his book aside and stands up. He doesn’t say one word to them. Besides, they’re too occupied with one another now. 

Instead Mingi heads to the lifeguard tower where he sees Yungho stretching. All long limbs, taut muscles, just perfect in every way. When he’s close enough, he takes a deep breath in before raising his hand up in greeting, “Hey!” 

Yunho looks over, puppy dog eyes all full of surprise as he spots Mingi approaching. A smile illuminates his features and Mingi wants to dunk himself into the ocean. 

“Hey, Mingi-yah!” 

He called him Mingi-yah! That alone makes Mingi want to run in place and spin around, maybe bite on his knuckles as he shrieks. Thankfully he’s cool and calm, just simply raising a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. He knows what he’s doing. The move alone brings attention to his own lengthy body, mostly to the way his torso elongates. He should have left his shirt back at his towel to show off the curve of his waist and the way his sharp hips hold up his shorts. 

“How’s… the beach?” Mingi asks, clearly fishing for conversation. 

Yunho laughs quietly at that, “You tell me. You’re here, too.” 

Mingi inwardly curses himself, telling himself to get a hold of his words and think before he speaks. The charming way Yunho grins at him isn’t helping. 

“It’s, uh…” he’s squinting behind his dark shades, eyes roaming the way Yunho stands tall, his chest full and wide while his abs are softly toned, “...hot.” He folds his lips in, pressing them hard together as he feels himself heavily swarmed with heat in his face. He can’t believe he said that out loud. 

The look of surprise flashing on Yunho’s face is enough for Mingi to start to walk backwards. 

“Well! See you later!” Mingi waves and he almost trips on air before he turns and stalks off. He thinks he hears Yunho’s laugh following after him. 

“That bombed,” San graciously informs him as Mingi plops himself back on his towel. 

“Shut up!” Mingi quips back, laying down and hastily pulling the book back open to the page he left off on. 

“You know he’s still looking over here,” Wooyoung adds, and Mingi does not need to know this bit of information. 

“Oh god, he is,” San chimes in.

“I don’t know how your awkward ass did it, but I think he’s into you,” Wooyoung thoughtfully shares. 

Mingi refuses to listen to their trickery and lies. They just want him to cling onto hope and make a fool of himself again. “Sure, sure,” Mingi just says, dismissing the conversation. Instead of reading his book he’s plotting the various ways he’ll set himself on fire so that at least Yunho will remember him as the guy who burst into flames instead of the guy who as San put it, bombed. Not that they really seemed all too different. 

“Whoa, look! It’s him!” San shouts out in unison and start smacking Mingi’s arm. 

San’s leaning his weight against Wooyoung, eyes glued to the figure across the beach. More like, a few figures. There’s a man, gorgeous even from afar, flanked by a curvy woman and a broad man. His dark hair is immaculately flipping at the ends, looking like he walked straight out of a manhwa. 

“Why is Yeosang so hot?” San asks, a slight whine to his voice. Wooyoung can hear the pout on his lips without even looking. 

Yeosang’s known as the local, ‘Beautiful Bisexual Queen.’ 

His family has a long history of wealth so his influence is naturally strong. In high school he’d throw parties so wild that people would wonder come Monday, if any of it actually happened since it sounded so absurd. Wooyoung remembers attending one of them and he remembers there being an inflatable Unicorn pool battle, ending with one kid getting an embarrassing hard on from rubbing on the plastic too much. 

Now he’s still known for his wild parties, but they apparently vary from classy soirees with dress codes and Instafamous celebs, to more smoke-heavy hook up gatherings with more Instafamous celebs. Wooyoung hadn’t been invited to one in a while, mostly because he and Yeosang used to have a thing--that obviously ended with Wooyoung being caught in the school library with San’s hand down his pants. 

“We should go talk to him,” San suggests, nudging the back of Wooyoung’s shoulder. “By we, I mean you.” 

“I don’t know about that,” Wooyoung nervously laughs. 

“Come on… he’s told you before he’s over what happened between you two.” San read his mind too easily, Wooyoung making a noncommittal noise in his throat. When he sees that Wooyoung isn’t going to budge, he turns to Mingi. “I heard that Yunho often goes to his parties.” 

That catches Mingi’s attention. “Wait, really?” 

Now Mingi’s putting his book down and peering at the both of them from over the rim of his shades. 

“Yep! Makes sense, right? Yunho’s tall, sexy… single,” San enunciates the last word and Wooyoung watches as their friend now has no chance. San is truly dangerous once he knows someone’s weak points. 

Mingi looks like a meerkat with the way his neck cranes and he’s peering past people to where Yeosang is still shadowed by the two attractive people. Wooyoung watches as Mingi announces his ‘be right back’ status and leaves them. 

San’s arms wrap around his waist, his weight pressing into his back while they both watch. They see some sort of exchange, Yeosang smiling while the woman is slowly petting his abdomen. Wooyoung thinks he can see the guy kissing at Yeosang’s neck from here, not even deterred by the fact that Mingi’s casually conversing him up. 

Suddenly Mingi’s giving Yeosang two thumbs up and they can hear Mingi’s dorky laugh from here. When he returns, San immediately interrogates him, barely giving Mingi a chance to sit down. “So what’d he say?” 

“He said he’s throwing a party this Friday and we’re invited, duh,” Mingi answers, appearing quite smug about himself despite his earlier efforts with Yunho. Oh how he has the memory of a goldfish. 

“Yes! Hallelujah!” San exclaims, his arms now roughly shaking Wooyoung and embracing him hard from behind. 

As the two chatter on excitedly about what they’re gonna wear to the party and what possible crazy things will be there, Wooyoung feels a powerful pair of eyes on him. When he looks up at the source, he sees Yeosang, staring at him from across the way with a smile. He thinks he sees him do a tiny finger wave but Wooyoung’s already looking away. 

In the late afternoon, Wooyoung and San head back to the house before Mingi. No one else is home yet, which means only one thing. 

“Sexy times wherever we want!” Wooyoung shouts out, laughing cheerfully as he kicks his shoes off. He steps in to crowd San against the wall, smiling the entire short distance. Just as he leans in to sweep his boyfriend up into a kiss, he feels a very stern finger on his chest. 

“Not until you take a shower, mister,” San’s lips show the most soft looking scowl. “No way am I getting sand between my cheeks.” 

Fair enough. Wooyoung agrees to that and it doesn’t take long for the both of them to clean up. In the shower, they both trace one another’s tan lines, following the way their golden skin contrasts against the more pearly toned parts of their bodies. San tells Wooyoung it’s a shame the beach isn’t a nude one, claiming that his tush would look a lot cuter if it got some sun. Wooyoung disagrees, claiming that San’s ass is going to be the cutest one around no matter what. 

When they’re back in their bedroom having toweled off, Wooyoung sprawls onto their shared bed with only his confidence clothing him, “So where are we doing it?” Self proclaimed Woo-er right here. 

San switches the standing fan on, letting it stay stationary facing the bed. Wooyoung thinks it’s precautionary measures, and his guess is right the moment San starts to climb onto his lap. “Right fucking here,” San answers, just as naked as Wooyoung. 

There has always been a comfort between them, even before they started dating. Wooyoung recalls spending hours playing video games with only their briefs on, normalizing the act of reaching down to scratch their balls or to adjust their dicks after seeing a large chested video game girl. Wooyoung thinks that’s where his crush first developed. He mastered the art of sneaking furtive glances at his best friend’s soft dick, spending too many hours wondering how drastically bigger it’d grow when hard. Then there was that one time San really did get a boner and all of Wooyoung’s curiosities were answered--a lot fucking bigger. 

Wooyoung sighs out, content evident in the way the air behind it is heavy and draws out. He admires the way San’s cock is already half hard, resting on Wooyoung’s abdomen as he slowly starts to grind himself back and forth. A stuttering moan leaves him when the supple curves of San’s cheeks are fondling his own hardening arousal, letting the shaft of his length tossle between the warm valley of his backside. 

“How many times can I tell you you’re beautiful before the whole world knows it?” Wooyoung asks, his glinting eyes trailing upwards to take in the view of San, taut body all compact and lean. His defined muscles worked over with every shift of his hips, his protruding Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he sees San swallow. 

“They already know, baby,” San says too sweetly for what he’s doing, his thumbs finding Wooyoung’s nipples and beginning to stroke over them back and forth in light, teasing touches. “They’re just not ready to admit it.” 

Wooyoung can feel how quickly his cock hardens, the friction of San’s smooth skin feeling more sensitive against him. His hands drop down to San’s hips, tightening around them as he holds his lover in place. He begins to slowly pump his hips, letting his cock freely drag along the inside of San’s thigh, occasionally catching on his cock as well. Quiet whimpers depart from his slack lips, studying the way San’s lashes flutter closed and he’s enjoying this. 

From here Wooyoung can smell the mixture of their shampoo, floral hibiscus with that hint of increasing musk from their arousals as they start to move more heatedly together. The head of San’s cock is glistening in the sunlight pouring in from the window, catching on Wooyoung’s stomach and smearing it along with his feverish rutting. Their breathing creates its own rhythm of uneven exhales and sharp inhales. It’s getting warmer, the aide of the fan barely noticeable. 

“Want to feel you,” Wooyoung mewls out, his features flushed almost as much as his cock that’s under the weight of San’s body. 

San reaches right over to their desk bordering the bed, grabbing the open lubricant bottle that always stays there at all times of the day. He pours an amount that’s just enough to make it slick, causing Wooyoung to chuckle. “Want it a bit rough, today?” 

Sometimes San will get into this space of wanting to feel every inch of Wooyoung’s cock. The lubricant will thinly spread over Wooyoung’s cock so that when he fucks into San, his lover will feel the thickness of his girth catch on his rim with every thrust. Other times San will want it wet and messy, where by the end they’re covered in so many different fluids and the obscene slick noises that fill the room are enough to make Mingi turn a lobster red. Which has happened before thanks to Mingi’s bedroom being right next to theirs. 

When San positions Wooyoung’s cock at his entrance, he teases himself at first, gliding the dripping tip back and forth over his clenching hole. Wooyoung can already feel the contraction of muscles, San’s body asking to be filled. He almost reminds San he needs to be fingered open first but then quickly remembers they already fingered each other open in the shower. It was a just in case preparation since they never know who’ll end up receiving. 

The second that San sinks down on him, taking it in one full stride, Wooyoung’s voice quivers as a lengthened moan leaves him. He doesn’t wait for San to adjust to his width, immediately beginning to rock himself up into his heated frame. His walls are tight, clinging onto every inch of Wooyoung’s cock. When he pushes his hips back into the bed, gliding nearly out, he snaps his hips back upwards. His movements are punctuated with that satisfying slapping noise, but more importantly, he can feel the way San’s ass and thighs vibrate thanks to the force. 

San doesn’t hesitate to ride him, meeting each of his thrusts with a sharp roll of his body. They have this natural way by now of finding their sync quickly. It’s a fluid dance already, getting the maximum feel of Wooyoung canting his way so far into San, a small cry falls from every time. His legs are slightly bent to give himself that leverage needed. San’s toned thighs are tensing with each rush of pleasure. His knees even scissor out on the downward push, then close together when he rides the upward thrust. 

Everything is constant and hot. Even as their need grows and their moves get less refined, Wooyoung knows exactly how to angle his hips and buck himself up, feeling his cock rubbing right past that swollen gland. When that happens, San’s noises increase in volume and his hand reaches down to fondle at his length. He’s working the tip of his length, letting the warm hub of his palm knead right against his slit. 

Wooyoung notices the way San’s becoming more frantic and needy. He moves his legs so that his knees are no longer dipping into the mattress. Instead, he posts his feet on each side of Wooyoung’s waist and from there, San starts to fuck himself on Wooyoung’s cock. He does it with vigor, hiccuping mewls spilling out. Letting go of his cock, it starts to bounce, stiff and weightless as it bobs up and down. Precum splatters from the rough motions but neither of them care. 

Wooyoung can see how San’s rim swallows him up. It stretches and pulls on his cock, only to sink back down so quickly. He’s so gorgeous in this moment, needy and shameless as he uses Wooyoung’s length to chase his oncoming climax. Wooyoung helps him out by wrapping a hand around San’s pinkened arousal. He jerks him quick, matching the pace San has already set, listening to his harsh breathing combined with frequent tight moans. 

San’s face scrunches up as he gets closer and Wooyoung knows his own expression reveals too that his orgasm is coming. The heat of the room and the sweat sticking to their bodies now, only adds to the dizzying effects of how amazing everything feels. It’s with an abrupt shock of ecstasy that Wooyoung feels San’s whole frame tighten and he’s shuddering, curling over in a heap as he cries out straight from his chest. His head is nudging into Wooyoung’s shoulder now, his hips still working back and forth as he moans. 

Wooyoung only needs to thrust up into San’s heat a few more times before he’s also peaking, always matched up with his boyfriend so well. 

The two of them come down from their high, shudders still roaming through their body. Wooyoung’s caressing over San’s back and thighs, needing to touch him and soothe him. When they’ve gained some composure again, San’s lips find his and they slip into a heavy kiss. The kiss feels like it’s melting under the summer warmth, both sets of lips soft and languidly dragging together. One of them licks into their lover’s mouth; as to who, it doesn’t matter. 

What matters it that a few hours later when Seonghwa and Hongjoong come home, they walk into a surprise of dinner being set, plates on the table ready to go. 

“Surprise!” San and Wooyoung shout, having washed up for the second time that day. 

“Pizza?” Seonghwa asks, trying to sound touched and flattered though there’s certainly a questionable strain in his voice as he eyes the two boxes on the counter. 

“What’d you two do…” Hongjoong investigates with obvious suspicion in his tone. “Did you break something?” he follows up with as he sets his things down. 

“Nope!” San denies, smiling brightly as he opens both boxes, showing off one of them being pepperoni with pineapple, while the other is covered in all types of meat and veggies. “Just wanted to show you guys appreciation in everything you do.” 

Seonghwa can tell Hongjoong isn’t buying it by the way his feline eyes stay narrowed on the two of them, slowly reaching for some slices to put onto a plate. 

“We also wanted to ask you…” Wooyoung starts. 

“Oh, there we go!” Hongjoong laughs out, having expected a catch. 

Seonghwa grabs his own slices and he moves to the coffee table with Hongjoong in the living room to sit on the floor and eat like proper adults. 

“This Friday, there’s a party we wanted to go to,” San chirps in, sounding less nervous about it than Wooyoung. 

“Whose party and where?” Seonghwa asks now, more curious about this turn of events. He begins to eat, smiling over at Hongjoong who he sees is still waiting for the even bigger reveal. 

“Yeosang’s… at his place,” Wooyoung finishes. The look on Wooyoung’s face reads apprehension and both Seonghwa and Hongjoong know why. 

“Absolutely not!” Hongjoong protests instantly. 

“But hyung!” Here comes San’s whiny voice, his shoulders shimmying in a cute sulk. 

Seonghwa holds his breath, glancing between the younger two and Hongjoong, who ultimately has the last say in the household over matters. 

A second later though, a smile is cracking over Hongjoong’s face. “Gotcha! You’re both gullible,” he’s laughing to himself mostly since Wooyoung and San don’t find it funny. 

“So we can go?!” San’s already heading to the living room where he proceeds to throw himself down onto Hongjoong and back hug him. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Hongjoong just pats at San’s arm, leaning away so the younger boy will get the hint to get off him. 

“You’re the best!” San tries to kiss at his ear, not catching his hint at all. 

Hongjoong yelps out and jerks away, San just smiling with an all too devilish grin as he straightens up and bounds back over to Wooyoung. “You hear that Wooyoungie? We get to do all the molly and shrooms that we want to!” 

“Yah!” Seonghwa’s the one to yell out now, his motherly instincts clicking in. 

San just laughs out, slapping his knee in the process as it’s clear he’s joking. 

Seonghwa notes that Wooyoung doesn’t seem as pleased about the results as San does, a forced smile on his young features. 

“Thank you mom and dad!” San vocalizes with exaggeration on the mom and dad part, pulling on Wooyoung’s wrist to lead him out of the room. “We’re going to go plan our outfits!” 

Seonghwa doubts that statement. Knowing San he’ll probably just pull whatever he feels like wearing at the very last minute. He’s left alone with Hongjoong though, always impressed at how quiet it is whenever one of the other three leaves the room. 

“A party, huh,” Seonghwa thinks out loud. He’d never gone to one of Yeosang’s parties, but he knew the tales that would come from them. Once he had heard that emergency vehicles had to show up so they could help pull a wine bottle out of someone’s… nether regions. Seonghwa flushes to himself at the thought as he takes another bite of his slice. 

“Sounds interesting,” Hongjoong comments nonchalantly. It looks like he’s considering something, and if Seonghwa knows his best friend, which he does, he’s waiting for Seonghwa to suggest they try going to the party as well. 

“It does,” Seonghwa begins, all of a sudden feeling shy. He cannot explain the reason behind his heart starting to pick up speed and his thoughts going into a million directions. All of them seem to somehow twist and turn and land on one common conclusion, that it feels like he’s asking Hongjoong out on a date. He wipes that thought from his mind. “...Want to go?” 

The way that Hongjoong’s face lights up is worth every possible horror imaginable that might come true from attending the party. If Seonghwa were poetic right now, he’d be able to give justice to describing the lovely way Hongjoong looked right then. 

“We should,” Hongjoong verbally responds and with such an adorable curve to his lips, he adds, “Just to make sure they stay safe, you know?” 

Seonghwa feels a laugh bubble out of him as he softly replies, “Absolutely. Can’t let them do molly on their own, right?” 

They both shake their heads with grins, unable to even jest about the possibility. 

Seonghwa then notices that Hongjoong’s still staring at him. He holds his stare, about to sheepishly turn away when he feels Hongjoong’s hand reaching out. Hongjoong’s hand rests on the table though, just a few inches shy of touching Seonghwa’s. The disappointment in Seonghwa is hard to ignore, listening for what his best friend has to say with that steady look in his eyes. 

Just as quickly as it came though, the certainty and determination he thought he saw in Hongjoong’s dark gaze was gone. It was replaced with him dropping his eyes and his hand retreating all the way back to grab at the crust of a pizza slice. 

Seonghwa wants to ask him, wants to pry and dig up what Hongjoong was going to say. He wants to hear Hongjoong say the words. Say any words, really; however, there he is, just as afraid, just as worried about the consequences. He keeps his lips sealed and his burning desire to know what Hongjoong thought in that moment with such an intense look in his eyes gets swallowed up with the rest of his food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading, it's exciting to know there's other heauxes around too!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for this long overdue chapter! But I come bearing gifts! Over 12,000 words of gifts!
> 
> The tags are also updated thanks to this. 
> 
> Instead of cutting the party chapter into two, I made it into one big chapter to make it up for my long hiatus to this fic. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! If you do, always feel free to comment or follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/lilkabocha%22)! I would love random comments or DMs, always finding them encouraging! I also need people around so I can ask the important questions like, WHAT COSTUME SHOULD SO AND SO WEAR?!

Mingi stayed behind after everyone else had gone home. The sun was setting, the waves crashing on the shoreline in small continuous tumbles. He looked over at Yunho locking up the lifeguard post, walking down the wooden stairs to join Mingi on the soft sand. 

Yunho smiled at Mingi, one of those warm smiles that could melt away any level of awkwardness. And boy, was Mingi feeling really awkward. He didn’t even know what to say to Yunho. 

“I have to get dressed,” Yunho shared, almost looking… shy? No way. 

Mingi, thinking this was some sort of invitation, asked for clarity, “Right here?” 

“No, in the locker rooms,” Yunho laughed at him while walking passed Mingi. And Mingi just knew that he was to follow Yunho. This was happening. Something was happening, at least. 

Although Mingi’s limbs felt like molasses, he followed after Yunho through the sand and they reached the locker rooms before he knew it. 

Mingi was watching, not entirely shamelessly for he did look away when Yunho would cast a glance his way. Just as he saw Yunho drop his shorts, he also turned away to give him some respect. Or so he told himself that was the reason. 

“Hey,” he felt a hand on his shoulder and Mingi looked around. He lost the ability to breathe when he saw Yunho, shirtless and handsome, so close to him. Mingi abruptly had the lockers against his back as Yunho crowded his space. 

Yunho leaned in then, capturing him into a kiss. Mingi groaned out, heavy and wanting. He’d been fantasizing about this for months. His hands reached up to tangle into Yunho’s cotton candy hair, tangling through the strands and pulling him even closer. 

Their kiss was fiery and hot and Mingi felt every inch of his mouth filled with Yunho’s tongue. He needed more. 

His palms smoothed down those shoulders and dropped to Yunho’s chest. Then they dipped down his abdomen, turning until they reached where his shorts waistband would be. Except Yunho’s completely naked. 

Just as Mingi’s excitement piques, his fingers go to wrap around Yunho’s cock. He was curious, wanted to know how big he was, how hard he felt in his fingers after all this time of daydreaming. 

He couldn’t believe it was happening. This was happening. 

However, Mingi’s fingers never come into contact with warm, hard skin. They never trace through short, coarse hairs and he doesn’t feel a thick shaft in his palm. Instead he feels the smooth plane of plastic. 

Mingi tears away from the kiss and stares down. And where Yunho’s dick should be, he sees one of those lifeguard buoy floats. It’s catching the glint of the light in the locker room and the red plastic is nudging right between his thighs. 

He startles awake with a huge gasp. 

Mingi flings his blanket up and the images of the dream are still fresh in his mind as he looks down. Although his dream very unmistakably had Yunho’s dick as a vibrant red lifeguard float, he checks his own dick in an alarmed stupor. It’s still there. Rock hard and erect, pushing against his boxers. 

Mingi drops the blanket with a sigh that’s half relieved, half frustrated, his eyes closing. More images flood his mind of Yunho’s lips against his own, licking every ounce of his soul from his body. Groaning to himself, Mingi’s hand starts to trail down his body. It sneaks under the blanket, past his bare abdomen and to his boxers. Slipping his fingers past the elastic band, they brush against the tip of his length, leaking profusely already. 

“Fuck,” he gasps, thinking now about Yunho’s broad shoulders. He’s so round and full. Mingi’s long fingers wrap around his length, thumb massaging insistently at the base of his cock while the rest of his fingers pet along the top of his shaft. He then begins to steadily stroke himself, small groans leaving him as he thinks about what Yunho’s large hands would feel like on him. He bets they’d be calloused and rough from all the heroic acts he does every day, adding only more friction to Mingi’s sensitive skin. 

Mingi pumps himself harder, picking up the pace. If he just ignores the buoy part, he can relive his dream of Yunho pushing him flush against the lockers and kissing him so heatedly. It has to be the hottest nonexistent kiss of Mingi’s life. 

As his noises get a bit louder, trying not to be too disruptive due to his roommates, he feels his climax approaching. He thinks of Yunho kissing him, touching him, even rutting right against him. His hips start to arch off the bed in small rolls, pumping fluidly into his fist. 

He thinks of Yunho’s long-limbed body, glistening in the sun from the ocean water still clinging to his skin while he runs in slow motion down the beach. The rise and fall of his full, hard chest. His thick body looking gloriously strong. And those red shorts, all soaked and drenched, just showing every single inch of his long, enormous dick bouncing slowly up and–

Mingi climaxes. It hits him hard and abrupt, causing him to tense and convulse as he grunts out. Just as he’s stroking the last drops of release from himself, feeling the warm fluids coating his stomach and sticking to the inside of his sheets, he hears the door open and a voice shouting out. 

“Caught you!” 

“Did you just jerk off to Yunho?!” 

The shrill laughter makes Mingi sit up, one hand shoved under his blankets while his other grabs a pillow and he throws it hard at the door that shuts just in time. 

San and Wooyoung run down the hall, laughing and giddily hollering. 

“What did you two do?” Hongjoong asks, sitting at the breakfast table with a bowl in front of him. He pours some of the milk from the carton before he adds the cereal. The second he sees San and Wooyoung hide behind the couch, still full of giggles, Hongjoong immediately knows what they did. “Were you two bothering Mingi? Did you interrupt his self care time again?” 

Seonghwa’s eyebrows raise as he grimaces. Like Hongjoong, he’s probably grateful that the two deviants have never burst into their room like they do to Mingi. They probably know that Hongjoong’s wrath isn’t anything to mess with. 

As if to answer Hongjoong’s question, Mingi comes running down the hallway, a t-shirt half pulled on, hair disheveled. “Hey! You little assholes!” 

Hongjoong immediately points to the couch where the giggling stopped. Mingi however, runs right over and at the last second San and Wooyoung scatter and flee with terrified shrieks. 

“Now, now! No running!” Hongjoong huffs, seeing Mingi nearly trip as he doesn’t know who to follow at the last second. 

Seonghwa laughs from his spot across the table and Hongjoong looks over, shortly mesmerized by his smile. He’s watching with such fondness at the other guys, seeing them run back down the hallway out of sight. When he turns his creased eyes onto Hongjoong, his smile softens and his laughter fades. 

They hold gazes, only for Hongjoong to break it. 

“Are you ready for tonight?” Seonghwa asks in reference to the party. 

Hongjoong shakes his head, “I don’t think anything will prepare me for tonight. At least I have my costume ready.” 

As a part of Yeosang’s reputation for throwing the wildest parties in which they’ve only had a couple of lucky opportunities to experience firsthand, tonight’s party was a costume party. The theme was a Wonderland Summer, allowing people to be someone else for a night while attending a pool ‘tea’ party. It was a shoddy excuse for people to make terrible choices in skimpy outfits. 

“Me, too,” Seonghwa agrees, sipping at his morning coffee. 

“What’re you going to be?” Hongjoong asks, curiosity obvious as he’s asked Seonghwa this question a few times already. Seonghwa had hid his costume somewhere and Hongjoong wasn’t the type to snoop. 

“It’s still a surprise!” Seonghwa exclaims, laughing out quietly. “I don’t know if I should wear it, honestly. It might be… too much.” 

That causes Hongjoong to take pause, wondering what type of outfit Seonghwa could have prepared that could be considered, ‘too much.’ 

“Well I’m looking forward to it even more,” Hongjoong smiles brightly, too earnest as he continues to eat his breakfast, hearing yelps and laughter coming from one of the rooms in the house. 

\-- 

“I’ve never seen a more appropriate pair of outfits.” 

Hongjoong is sitting on the couch, having waited on the rest of them for what feels like nearly an hour. Wooyoung and San are the first to appear, standing before him now. 

“What’re you trying to say?” San asks, turning so his ass is facing Hongjoong, showing off the thin, skintight latex that covers only half his cheeks. The revealing leotard has a shine to the luminous red, his slender waist accentuated by the black mini corset. Adorning his toned back is a pair of red and black bat wings. Sitting on top of his blonde locks is a pair of deviled horns, bright red and matching the rest of his costume. To finish off the look, he’s carrying a toy pitchfork and wearing black chunky heels. 

“That you’re the devil incarnate,” Wooyoung contributes to the conversation with a grin. He’s the exact opposite of San. He’s wearing pure winter white, a tiny dress that cinches around his waist and flows out into a skirt to his mid thighs. His thighs alone are thick and a sight to see, barely held in the white fishnet thigh highs that pulls at the seams to fit around his curves. He has on a softly feathered halo connected to his headband, and contrasting to San’s bat wings, he has on white angel ones that accent the rest of his him so chastely, yet sinfully so. 

Hongjoong’s standing up from the couch hoping that’s their cue to be leaving soon. He smiles as he watches San kneel down to help strap Wooyoung’s feet into his white boots. 

“Well, what about my costume?” he asks, arms spreading wide to gesture to himself because he thinks his outfit is at least going to be the cutest in the group. 

“You look absolutely adorable,” comes a voice from the hallway. 

Hongjoong looks up so quickly, knowing exactly who that voice belongs to.

“But we all knew you’re our Pan,” Seonghwa greets him properly as he enters the light from the living room, taking all of the attention with him. Even Wooyoung and San whistle, their gazes sweeping openly over Seonghwa’s frame. 

It’s hard for Hongjoong to think much of his green tunic, tights and angular hat when he’s staring at the beauty of Park Seonghwa. 

Seonghwa is in an obscene, has to be illegal, black catsuit. To banter out the hotness of the summer humidity, instead of skintight, black material covering his legs, it stops short right where his thighs begin. His hips look so delicate, falsely demure as they saunter upwards to a tinier waist than San, over to where the black outfit cups his chest. His ankles don’t go unattended. He has on strappy stiletto heels and if anyone can walk in those, Hongjoong knows it’ll be Seonghwa. The cat ears sit on a wire headband, pretty like the rest of him. It looks like he has gloves he can pull on with sharp claws at the end, but he’s holding them at his side, and all Hongjoong can do is look him over once more. 

Seonghwa is stunning.

San’s right behind Seonghwa, arms slipping around him as his devil palms flatten along Seonghwa’s stomach, reaching upwards where he squeezes at the hard bosom of the costume at Seonghwa’s chest. He giggles, too cute for what he’s really doing, “Hyung’s going to catch all the mice. They won’t even know they’re caught until it’s too late.” 

Seonghwa blushes, a furious bloom on his features, up to his ears. Hongjoong’s about to speak up, about to stutter out some redeeming form of compliments other than his silent ogling. However, just as he opens his mouth, here enters Mingi. 

“I’m ready!!!” his voice bellows out and like a tidal wave, his long arms come wrapping around whoever’s the closest, which happens to include Hongjoong with San and Seonghwa. Hongjoong finds himself pressed up against Seonghwa, seeing the endless expanse of bare skin of his shoulders and chest and Seonghwa smells absolutely lovely. There’s a floral undertone with something more spicy on top, like he spritzed cologne over his bath soap. 

Hongjoong and the rest of them wiggle free from Mingi’s grasp as he slides into some flip flops. 

“You’re a fucking lifeguard?!” Wooyoung shrieks, accusing Mingi of his lack of imagination. “Is this your idea to get into the pants of the real lifeguard?” 

Mingi looks like he’s caught with his plan being foiled, a pathetic, “...Yeah!”, following after. He has on a bright red open vest, clearly cheaply made, store bought from the costume shop. To pair with it are red shorts and a silver whistle hanging around his neck. He has on flip flops, as well as a pair of sunglasses on his head. 

The rest of them laugh because Mingi is hopeless...ly in love. 

“Well let’s go!” San shouts out, a hard clap purposefully landing on Mingi’s bare shoulder, just to watch the much bigger boy huff and pout. 

As they all trail out the door, Hongjoong’s about to pass through at the same time as Seonghwa. They both stop in their tracks, a nervous flutter in his chest. He smiles at his long time friend, gesturing for Seonghwa to go first, in which Seonghwa of course does the same gesture since he’s the sweetest being in the entire planet. 

“Oh no, you first–” 

“You first–”

They both awkwardly laugh, or so Hongjoong thinks his laugh has to be awkward. When his laughter fades, he gulps hard as silence fills up between them. His eyes linger on Seonghwa, noticing up close now that he has on a dusty rouged blush, light and only visible from the light on the porch. He also has a shimmer on his eyelids to match the glow to his lips, from what must be flavored lip gloss. Hongjoong only thinks flavored because he thinks Seonghwa would taste like strawberries or peaches. 

Hongjoong has the biggest urge to say something, anything...

“Get in the car!” There’s a sudden honking and he can hear Wooyoung shriek at them. 

Another laugh leaves Seonghwa and he bows his head briefly as he takes the first step this time, leading them out the door. As Hongjoong shuts the door and locks it up, he sighs heavily as he wonders if attending this party is going to be a huge regret come tomorrow. 

\--

Yeosang’s house is massive. It’s as grand as one would expect from the son of corporate farmers. Lately they’ve taken to more medicinal crops, ones that promote the finest in the market and ship worldwide. To a family that’s been farming for generations, it’s the new modern way of making bank. To Yeosang, it’s an easy avenue to throw the best parties. 

The entrance doors are at least two Mingi’s tall, the front hall bigger than their entire house. The stairs are wide and spiral up to the second floor with an epic iron cast railing. 

“Welcome!” says some partygoer that Wooyoung doesn’t recognize. He figures Yeosang is too occupied with hosting the party and schmoozing it up with his guests to answer the door himself. 

Yeosang, a man of mysterious allure to everyone else but to Wooyoung. He shoves those thoughts aside as the group walks through the house towards the back. They pass the large open kitchen to see people standing by the table filled with bottles and red cups, pouring drinks left and right. At the back of the mansion is an expansive patio with fancy lounge chairs and a large pool lit with multiple colors. People are everywhere. 

Some are dancing by the hired DJ. Others are mingling with drinks in their hands, chatting about horror stories from first dates or eye fucking each other. He sees a beer pong table, the quintessential party game. A very loud guy runs and battle cries as he cannonballs into the pool, causing a big splash onto surrounding people who shout and laugh. 

And then he sees Yeosang. The Beautiful Bisexual Queen in the flesh. Right in the middle of the mother fucking pool. On a fucking unicorn float looking more fucking ethereal than the creature he’s fucking throned upon. He has the tiniest white tunic that only covers half his body—not even half. A quarter of his body. An eighth! The white fabric just drapes along his narrow hips and stops half way down his thighs. There’s so much skin showing, taut abs and dark nipples, mocking Wooyoung. He thinks Yeosang is speckled in glitter as well. His hair is blonde now. A god like blonde that halos around his sharp features. He has on a golden sash along with a matching golden headband that has a set of wings, all prettily framing his just as golden hair. The wings are glowing. Yeosang is glowing. 

Yeosang is also flanked by two other people, different ones than who they saw at the beach. The pool floats must be attached for the guy and the girl at both sides of Yeosang are right there, floating with him. The girl is feeding Yeosang fruit from a bowl she’s holding in her lap, giggling in the most obnoxious way as she gets some strawberry juice on Yeosang’s chin. The guy has his hand way too comfortably on Yeosang’s thigh, massaging up and down the toned, smooth skin, fingers dipping too far inward, occasionally sliding up under the hem of his white cloth. 

“Hey, buddy,” San’s arms are suddenly wrapping around his shoulders from behind as he perches his chin on Wooyoung’s shoulder. 

Wooyoung nervously laughs, his heart rate increases. He feels like he’s caught in the act of infidelity. 

San’s lips find Wooyoung’s ear, kissing him gently on the lobe. “Mm, he’s gorgeous tonight, isn’t he?” 

“Who’s gorgeous?” Wooyoung tries to act confused, like he doesn’t know that San’s talking about the man currently licking strawberry juice off his lips and fingers. 

“Hermes... or should I say Yeosang,” San replies without any hesitance, nipping on his soft skin. “While you were with him, you know you could have asked me for a threesome and I would have been so down.” 

Wooyoung at this point flushes, turning his attention away from Yeosang finally, shifting so that he’s facing San now. He slides his arms slowly around his boyfriend’s waist, fingers dipping down to the dimples at San’s lower back, massaging gently. “That was a long time ago,” he replies, before he smiles at San, this genuine flood of warmth as he admires his lover. “And I’m much happier with you than I ever was with him.” 

Hence, why he cheated on Yeosang with San, which is no excuse in the end. Wooyoung’s been told by friends that he did it as an act of attention, often insecure and bothered by how much attention Yeosang received from everyone. That he might’ve felt like he was fading into the background, and in one lousy attempt to make Yeosang feel for him, to fight for him, he fooled around with his classmate San. 

From there, San became his closest friend and the best thing to ever happen to him. San is always vocal about his affections with Wooyoung and he doesn’t have to second guess if he’s the number one person in his life or not. Wooyoung in return is so quick to tell San how much he loves him, cares for him, and how San is strong, intelligent and capable of doing anything he wants. The sex is also top notch amazing, so there’s that. 

San’s smile is enough to show Wooyoung he said the right thing. But much like the devil that San is portraying tonight, his fingers lace loosely behind Wooyoung’s head and he asks in a deceitfully sweet voice, “Do you think he’d sleep with us?”

Wooyoung scoffs and snorts, a laugh so fake leaving him as he tries to appear incredulous at what San’s insinuating. 

When he sees his boyfriend is being completely serious, a small eyebrow waggle coming from him, Wooyoung states firmly, “No,” like he’s telling a puppy to leave the slipper alone. “We are not going to try to fuck him,” Wooyoung hisses more quietly as he looks around for anyone who might listen in. They’re all too preoccupied with their own plans of getting laid though. 

“Why not?” San pouts, too much like a baby that he is certainly not. Not with that mouth. 

“Because! I—,” Wooyoung starts, searching for a reasonable excuse. “It’d be too weird. My ex and my current boyfriend. Why would he even sleep with his ex boyfriend and his new lover he cheated on him with?” 

San thinks it over for a few seconds and shrugs at that. “Won’t know until you try.” San brings a hand over to cup Wooyoung’s chin, fingers and thumb squishing his cheeks as he does so. “It’s not like you’ll go running back to him. Like you said, you’re happier with me, right?” 

Wooyoung studies the other man, thinks of how San has been this lustrous light in his life. “Right. I’m much happier with you. I love you so much,” Wooyoung shares, going all soft and gooey as he places his hands at San’s hips. He leans in to draw his boyfriend into a kiss, open mouthed and borderline gratuitous. He feels San’s tongue plunge into his mouth, messy and eager, thoroughly circling around his own. 

“Not even ten minutes have passed and you two are already tonguing each other’s throats,” Mingi sighs as he walks up to the two lovebirds, holding a red cup that’s three quarters whiskey and one quarter coke. He’s giving the two a disgusted look, one that comes from being a daily victim of the WooSan camboy show. Except he’d rather pay to not see them tongues deep in one another’s mouths. 

“Yeah, well, this could be you, water boy,” San retorts, still holding Wooyoung close as he’s flushed in the cheeks, looking Mingi up and down. “If you grow balls by the end of the night to ask your Hopuppy out.” 

Mingi blanches, “Shut up!” 

“I think it’s time for drinks, my little devil spawn,” Wooyoung chuckles, unlatching himself from San and gingerly grabbing his wrist to lead him away. 

“You mean time to get drunk and make some bad decisions?” San offers instead, hearing Wooyoung protest. 

Mingi stands there with his cup, looking deep into the dark contents as if they represented the current status of his soul. Dark and depressing. And strongly smelling of hard liquor. 

Maybe if he stares hard enough he will grow those balls for his... Hopuppy.

“Hey! I like your costume.” 

Oh shit. Speak of the puppy. 

Mingi snaps his eyes up from the cup with surprise. Before him stands Yunho, all smiles and cute round cheeks. “Thanks,” he replies, bland and dumbfounded. He finally blinks himself into the present moment and looks to see what costume Yunho’s wearing. “And you’re... Thor?” 

The confusion must be painfully evident for Yunho’s grin turns sheepish. “I know, you’re not the first person to ask me why I’m wearing a full body suit with cushioned muscles in this hot weather. But I like Thor.” A second passes and he adds so charmingly, “And he has a cool hammer.” Yunho lifts his toy hammer, swinging it once to show off. 

Of course his simple explanation has Mingi falling in love all over again. Who wouldn’t love a guy who’s willing to endure the humidity for his love of a superhero and his hammer. 

Relatable. 

Besides, Mingi’s always thought of him as Adonis. Being Thor is just one universe over, really. 

All of a sudden Mingi feels very naked and exposed though, but he knows he needs to wear it proudly. It got Yunho to talk to him, right? 

“Thor is cool,” Mingi answers, lending so much to the conversation. He quickly wracks his brain for what more to say, than to just stare in awe like a goldfish at the man before him. Sure, he could whip off his vest and shorts and tell Yunho that thicc thighs save lives. But he should probably finish his drink first. 

“My drink’s empty,” Yunho’s announcing abruptly. Mingi doesn’t know why at first, but he quickly catches on when Yunho asks him, “Care to join me while I get a refill?” 

“Sure,” Mingi smiles widely at that, thinking quite triumphantly that his plan for his costume worked and Wooyoung and San are going to eat their words when they find out. 

Heading into the mansion’s kitchen which is just a step through the double French doors, the island is so large that the countless bottles of alcohol and mixes only cover a portion of it. 

“Have you had sex on the beach before?” Mingi asks, quickly realizing what just came out of his mouth. “I mean! The drink. A Sex on the Beach drink,” he stumbles over his words in his quick correction. 

Yunho finds it hilarious for he’s chuckling sweetly. That is until his laughter stops and Mingi thinks he sees Yunho stare him up and down. “I have,” Yunho says, far too seriously, causing Mingi to wonder which one he’s referring to. 

“Then... allow me the honors,” Mingi really tries to carry this conversation so that he’s not just a bumbling caveman in a red lifeguard suit. He knows the basic ingredients: vodka, peach liqueur, and some orange and cranberry juice. He doesn’t know the exact ratios of each liquid, but he mixes it up then hands the cup over to Yunho. 

Yunho picks up the red cup, his arm bulging in the muscle suit. Sipping from it, he pulls a face, nose wrinkling. “That’s… strong,” he chuckles again, but takes another sip like he won’t directly tell Mingi that it’s fucking disgusting. 

Mingi also doesn’t see when Yunho adds more of the orange juice while he’s distracted with finishing off his first drink and making another. 

Hongjoong sees it, however. He just came from the bathroom, rubbing his freshly washed hands together as he scans the open room for Seonghwa. Seeing Mingi’s plan work so well, the two giant males chatting it up in the kitchen, WooSan having ran off with one another the moment they entered, Hongjoong had been sticking to Seonghwa’s side as to not be alone. That was the only reason. 

They had first perused the snack table together, then made their own fruity cocktails. 

When a few girls walked by them and whistled, Hongjoong only smiled at Seonghwa while telling him that was for him. They had a chance to go outside for a second, Seonghwa immediately jumping in to dance to a Chungha song, in which Hongjoong stopped him thirty seconds in when a few men in the surrounding area started itching at their dicks. 

Note to Hongjoong, never let Seonghwa dance to sexy songs again while he's wearing a revealing second layer of skin black catsuit. In heels. 

The drinks they downed led him to the restroom, where he kept trying to fix his costume. He felt like the hat was overdoing it and maybe he was too cute to be by Seonghwa's side. He should have gone with his Jack Sparrow idea. 

Scanning the open room, he finally spots Seonghwa, his own gaze lighting up. He only falters in his step when he sees Seonghwa talking to a few people, laughing with them. He watches how a tall, conventionally handsome guy reaches up to touch the small of Seonghwa’s back. He’s standing far too close, his eyes continually tracing over Seonghwa’s breathtakingly gorgeous features. 

Hongjoong stops in his tracks, feeling this flare of confused heat in his chest. Seonghwa’s always been really charming, a magnet for people. Everywhere they go he’s always being complimented for his good looks and polite manners. 

Yeah, Hongjoong has his own magnetic qualities such as confidence in his studies and passions. But it’s hard to remember when he sees this man wearing a very revealing firefighter outfit, which is basically just spandex shorts and suspenders in the color scheme of black and yellow, inching his hand on Seongha even lower. 

Hongjoong turns away, heading off in a different direction. It seems like he’ll have to entertain himself tonight, or find someone else. 

\-- 

“So is being a lifeguard your dream then?” Mingi asks Yunho, leaning forward on his elbows on top of the counter of the island. He smiles in a languid, enamored way. 

“Not a lifetime dream,” Yunho answers, leaning back on a different counter as he’s sipping at his third drink since they’d entered the kitchen. 

They started talking, sharing various basic facts about one another. Mingi learned that Yunho lives with just his mother. He works and attends a college that she works as an administrator at. His younger brother is still in high school and plays futbal. And he has a dog named Dobby since Harry Potter is his favorite book series. The Harry Potter books are actually the only ones he’s read for fun. 

“I want to be a paramedic,” Yunho shares, setting his now empty cup down. Mingi doesn’t move to refill it, feeling way too tipsy himself to trust mixing another shitty blend of alcohols and random juices. Yunho’s been a champ for withstanding the other drinks he made for him. 

“You’d be a great paramedic,” Mingi declares. “You’d save so many people.” 

Yunho’s smiling in delight, “Is that so?” 

Mingi nods enthusiastically. 

“Do you think I’d be good at CPR?” Yunho asks, the warm expression on his face too dazzling to be thought of as anything but innocent. 

“You’re a fucking lifeguard, duh,” Mingi snorts, as if that question was entirely too silly to be asked. “Jus’ imagine how much better your CPR will be as a-a paramedic,” his drink sloshes about in his cup as he sets it down, standing upright again. He teeters some, holding onto the counter to brace himself. 

“What if I needed to practice? Would you help me out?” 

Mingi blinks, his expression betraying one that says, of course he’d help Yunho out with anything what kind of dumb fucking question was that?! However, belatedly, it strikes him as to what this question could mean. No. Way. 

His face sobers up as his heart starts to clamber about in his chest. Was this it? Was this his dream coming true? 

Mingi gulps, hard, his long and slender throat bobbing with the action. Yunho’s eyes fleet to it. “Yeah,” he says, a lot more quietly as he can hear his breath, can feel his chest rising and falling beneath the open vest. “Definitely yeah.” 

“Yeah you got that yummy yum, that yummy yum, that yummy yummy.” 

Mingi stiffens as he sees Jongho walk nonchalantly into the kitchen while singing. He grabs a whole coconut as well as a whole pineapple, holding each one in his hands. 

“Say the word, on my way. Yeah, babe, yeah, babe. Any night, any day, say the word, on my way.” 

He walks right back out, still singing. 

“Was that–” Mingi starts, eyes meeting Yunho’s comically. 

Yunho cuts him off, “Don’t even finish that sentence, I’m too ashamed.” 

\--

San is curled up next to Wooyoung, draped against his side, crowding into his space as much as he can without actually sitting on his lap. They’re currently lounging in one of the fancy poolside chaises. The music is still blasting current top hits while people are still splashing about in the pool. The two removed their wings after the fourth time some random stranger pulled on them and asked if they could fly.

Of course the fuck not, San had told that last person as he stripped free from them. 

“Here,” San blows out a stream of blueberry scented smoke as he hands the juul over to Wooyoung. 

Wooyoung brings the vape to his lips and slowly inhales, letting it enter his lungs as he breathes in, then exhales out little puffs. He passes it back to San. 

“Fuck, this really is the good stuff,” Wooyoung sounds defeated to admit. 

At Yeosang’s parties, any and everything is always available. It’s easy when his family is on Forbes’ Top 100. 

“The only reason I wanted to come,” San arches his neck back, watching as he lets a steady flow of smoke stream towards the sky. “That, and to see my baby in this sexy outfit.” San hands over the juul just as his hand starts to smooth over Wooyoung’s tummy. He feels along the dress, rubbing his belly. 

Wooyoung smiles, pleased at the compliment. As his lips wrap around the mouthpiece, he studies the way San’s hand explores more daringly over him. Those slender fingers drift upwards to his chest, thumbing over the white material as he finds Wooyoung’s nipple easily. The brunette inhales deeply, the fruity flavor filling his mouth, seeping into his palette. 

As he observes San’s hand dropping, making it to the hem of his dress, his breath stills. His boyfriend’s eyes are focused on Wooyoung’s face as his hand slips under, feeling along his supple thighs barely covered by the thin stretch of fishnet. The skin between the threads is warm as San’s fingertips push between the plush apex of his thighs, stroking along the inside of his legs, moving further up until they reach smooth skin that’s no longer covered by his tights. 

Wooyoung exhales shakily. 

“Can I have some?” 

Wooyoung and San’s gazes both shoot up to the newcomer. 

Wooyoung’s heart drops. 

San looks delighted. 

It’s Yeosang. 

A beat or two passes before Wooyoung lifts the vape pen up towards him, “Yeah. It’s technically yours anyway.” 

Yeosang doesn’t remain standing. He plops right down on the edge of the lounge chair next to San. He sucks in a large hit with the pen, San now watching so intently, fascinated. 

“That’s a big one,” San comments, a hint to his voice that Wooyoung recognizes clearly as suggestive. 

“I like it big,” Yeosang doesn't miss a beat, not a bother in the world as he lets the smoke trail past his tinted lips, somehow making it more sinewy and hypnotic. 

San has a plan. Wooyoung knows it. 

If he were completely sober, he’d probably stop this plan from being executed, right now. As it is though, he’s feeling light headed and content, his guard down as his heart finally makes its way back into the comforts of his chest. 

As San’s hand edges higher up along his thighs, continuing its path from earlier, Wooyoung can see Yeosang’s eyes flick downwards. The beautiful Hermes boy watches closely as under the line of his dress, San’s hand is clearly moving, stroking. 

At first, San lets the pads of his fingertips skim back and forth over Wooyoung’s white panties, catching on the lace here and there. Wooyoung gasps, squirming the tiniest bit in the chaise as San circles and teases along his tip, his half hard cock now filling out with arousal the more he’s touched. 

The only minor problem with all of this, is if Wooyoung was clearer minded and rational, he’d... fuck, he wouldn’t stop this. The major problem is that Wooyoung, deep down, has always wanted it. 

To be laid out before Yeosang like this, seeing his ex lover’s eyes drink up the way Wooyoung shudders and quietly moans, while his current lover grabs him more firmly through his lingerie. San’s palm grips him through the thin material, stroking along his hardening cock, reaching down to languidly and firmly roll his balls between his fingers. 

None of it is seen by Yeosang of course, the hem of the dress moving with San's forearm leaving it up to the Greek God's imagination. 

Wooyoung’s thighs start to part naturally, growing in need, ignoring that they’re still outside on the patio where anyone can look over and see. In fact, there’s probably a lot of people looking over here due to Yeosang. Gorgeous Yeosang with his haloed blonde hair and winged headband, eating up the sight before him with a starving gaze. 

Wooyoung’s deep-seeded desires are now blooming at the surface, as if San always knew he wanted this, was just keeping it buried. 

“I have something stronger than this,” Yeosang holds up the dark red juul. “Come with me and I’ll show you?” 

Yeosang must know that people’s attentions are being dragged to them. 

San looks at his boyfriend, waiting for Wooyoung to answer. He knows what he wants, but he wants to make sure Wooyoung is on board. 

“Yeah,” Wooyoung eventually supplies, an answer not guided by how fucking hard he is under his dress right now. 

San’s hand slides free from under it, smiling at Yeosang as they both stand up. “Did I mention that your parties are the best?” San fondly laughs, somehow switching from devilish enabler to a sweet fallen angel. He helps Wooyoung up, his arm slipping around Wooyoung’s cinched waist as they follow Yeosang. 

\--

Seonghwa walks around the house, searching for Hongjoong. Ever since he disappeared to use the bathroom, he hasn’t seen him. Seonghwa didn’t particularly like these types of parties and only came to indulge in girl group songs and to give Hongjoong some emotional support. Hongjoong is more social than him and he knows he enjoys these chances to network his brand. 

As he’s walking towards one of the first floor hallways, he catches sight of Wooyoung and San walking up the grand staircase. They’re following Yeosang. Now that’s a turn of events. 

He’ll think about that later. Right now he needs to find Hongjoong. 

Checking his phone again to see if Hongjoong replied to any of his texts, he continues to check each room. It’s then he hears a familiar voice, his brows furrowing as his attention fixates on it. Following the voice, he comes to a room where the door is cracked open. 

“He doesn’t even like me.” He hears Hongjoong speaking, a drawl to his voice like he’s drunk and chattering off any thoughts that come to his mind. “After all this time of knowing one another, and he doesn’t like me. What the fuck do I have to do? Should I also walk around in tiny shorts and show off my ass? I do have a pretty great ass…” 

Seonghwa’s heart pounds. A hard lump forms in his throat and his chest tightens. 

“I think you’re beautiful as you are.” There’s a second voice. Seonghwa feels alarm as he steps closer to the door. “You don’t need him if he can’t see what he has right in front of him.” 

There’s a pause in the conversation and it’s too silent for Seonghwa’s liking. 

Unable to take it any longer, Seonghwa pushes the door open all the way. “Joongie?” 

What he comes upon is not what he expected at all. He sees Hongjoong sitting on the floor between the legs of a woman. She has lavender dyed hair, her hands currently making small ponytails in Hongjoong’s bright red hair. 

They both look over to him in shock. 

“Seonghwa?” Hongjoong rolls his eyes and tries to turn his back to Seonghwa. 

The woman’s expression shifts when she hears Hongjoong address him and her eyes rake up and down Seonghwa’s stature. He’s been dealing with that all night, wearing nothing but this catsuit and his stilettos. He can count on two hands how many guys tried to grab his ass. 

“Hongjoong, we should go. It’s late and you’re…” he wants to say drunk as he sees empty bottles and cups, but his eyes warily cast to the woman. 

“I think he’s fine right here,” she speaks up, her voice low and confident. She’s dressed up in a Wonder Woman costume, the canniness of it amusing in a different dimension. 

“I don’t think you need to speak for him. Who even are you?” Seonghwa closes in, distraught at seeing this stranger try and take ownership of Hongjoong. 

“Moonbyul,” Hongjoong speaks up now, finally turning his eyes fully onto Seonghwa. “And we used to have classes together.” 

Seonghwa has an inexplicable feeling in him rile up, clawing at his gut. He does know one thing. He needs to get Hongjoong home. 

“Well, Moonbyul,” he tries again, trying to sound more at ease and grateful. “Thank you for taking care of Hongjoong. We do live together though, and I’d like to get him home before it gets too late.” 

Moonbyul is about to protest, her thin lips parting but Hongjoong holds a hand up. “It’s okay, Byullie,” he gently interrupts. “He’s right, I should go. I can barely even st–” 

And just as he moves to stand, everything turns topsy turvy. Seonghwa quickly moves in to catch him when he feels another pair of arms around him as well. His eyes briefly lock with Moonbyul's. She smirks. 

Taking over from there, Seonghwa guides Hongjoong’s arm around his shoulders as he leans over to help support him. “Thank you again,” he says to her, deciding he’ll take the high road and be the bigger person. Really, it’s not like she did anything wrong, so he can’t fathom why he feels this way. 

When they leave the room, Hongjoong leans his whole weight against Seonghwa. Which isn’t much. He focuses solely on mostly carrying Hongjoong down the hall, past the people lounging about inside, and straight to the front door. He knows the others will find a way home, so he doesn’t worry about fishing out the keys from Hongjoong’s pocket as they reach the car. 

On the passenger side, it’s a bit of a struggle to get the doors unlocked, opened and safely buckling Hongjoong into the seat. He’s floppy and sways with the smallest nudge. Once he has his best friend secured, he’s sighing out, having worked up a small sweat. Shutting the door he walks along to the other side, cursing how painful his feet feel in these heels. The gravel of the ground does nothing to alleviate it. 

During the car ride, Seonghwa keeps glancing over to Hongjoong. Seonghwa would think he was asleep if it weren’t for his long lashes every so often parting open while he murmurs something incoherent. 

When they reach their cozy little home, Seonghwa cuts the engine and it’s a whole other trip to finally get Hongjoong into his bed. He’s panting by the time he collapses on the edge of Hongjoong’s mattress, awfully warm as he reaches over to turn the fan on. It immediately blasts air out, Seonghwa sighing in relief. 

He slowly turns his eyes back onto his best friend. Hongjoong looks so peaceful, laying there in his bed, his Peter Pan outfit absolutely adorable on him. He lost his hat to the throes of the party, probably never to be seen again. It doesn’t matter though, his hair pretty without it. 

Seonghwa reaches out, fingers threading through those bright strands, slow and affectionate. The tips of his fingers skim along the crown of his head, watching how his hair sifts through the valleys of his digits. He can feel that familiar beat in his chest, his heart. Like it’s trying to tell him something. 

Seonghwa goes to stand when Hongjoong mumbles out, this time a coherent word. 

“Stay.” 

Seonghwa blinks back at him, seeing now his eyes are partially open. They’re hooded and dark, staring up at Seonghwa with a slight, worrying pout to his lips. 

“Don’t go.” 

Seonghwa’s weak. He’s always been weak when it comes to Hongjoong. 

He smiles with a breathless laugh. “If you want,” he tucks some of Hongjoong’s hair behind his ear, right before his palm warmly cups his slender cheek. He takes this moment to finally remove these god forsaken heels, pulling the straps loose and sliding them off his feet. He grimaces a bit but he feels another touch. It’s Hongjoong, soothing a hand along Seonghwa’s forearm. Another smile breaches Seonghwa’s lips and he shuts the lamp off by Hongjoong’s bed. Leaning over and curling up with him, Hongjoong instantly takes to Seonghwa. It’s unusual, this type of skinship between them. In a sober state, Hongjoong would be shy, would avoid this closeness. But right now? Seonghwa’s living. He almost coos at the way Hongjoong wraps around him, tangling their legs, folding an arm around Seonghwa’s waist. 

As they both settle into their positions, quieting down, Seonghwa’s about to fall asleep. Edging into his thoughts are the vague recollections of Hongjoong talking behind the door to Moonbyul. Who was he talking about? 

There’s a tiny voice in his head that responds to that dumb question, ‘You know who.’

Just as he’s on the brink of falling asleep, nuzzling right into his bare shoulder with the sweetest, small voice, Hongjoong mumbles out, “Seonghwa.” 

\--

The room Yeosang leads them to is devastatingly huge. Windows stretch tall from the floor to the ceiling, bordered by curtains that have to be specially made and ordered for their length. The bed has tall dark wooden posts draped with colorful, bold textiles. It’s a California King. Fit for the Bisexual Queen. 

“This is your room?” San asks as the door shuts behind them. He’s looking at how Yeosang has a whole set of furniture, couches and chairs placed around a television screen bigger than their whole bedroom wall at home. 

“Yeah,” Yeosang answers calmly, his lousy excuse for a tunic flimsy and small as it shifts while he walks. He moves to the table beside his bed, opening the top drawer. 

Reaching for his boyfriend’s hand, San leads Wooyoung to the bed, well aware that Wooyoung’s still uncomfortably aroused. His softly lined panties don’t do the best job at keeping his erection in place. He thinks he can feel the tip of it already having slid past the delicate band of his thigh, leaving droplets of precum on his leg that are cooling already. It’s frustrating, really, but Wooyoung’s also still trying to catch up with what’s happening. 

He’s seated on the edge of the massive bed, San beside him. He watches San slide off his big, chunky heels, letting them thud heavily to the floor. If Wooyoung’s reading the situation right, something’s about to go down. 

His cock jumps beneath his dress and he clutches at the hem. 

San notices that little movement and he slowly smiles. 

While Yeosang finally takes out a black dispenser, small enough to fit in his hand, he begins to explain to them what it is. “Two sprays is enough. Three if you want to be adventurous. Just spray right under the tongue and let it sit before swallowing,” he parts his lips to demonstrate. 

Standing before them, his body chiseled like a Greek God, perfect for his outfit, he lifts his tongue and presses down on the spray. Once. Twice. Three times. 

Lips closing, he holds the dispenser out to San, who follows Yeosang. Three sprays. Now it’s Wooyoung’s turn. The spray has a minty taste, fresh and surprising. He lets it pool beneath his tongue as he hands it back to Yeosang who deposits it back into his drawer. 

The couple watches as Yeosang opens the bottom drawer, taking out a few packets of condoms and a bottle of lube. Yeosang finally swallows. “And now we wait. It’ll hit in about an hour.” 

Yeosang climbs onto his bed after removing his gold gladiator sandals. He also finally slides off that ridiculously glowing headband. He situates himself right on the array of multiple pillows, centerfold on his bed. His legs stretch out, slender and toned, looking way too relaxed for a guy sitting next to condoms and lube. 

“Fuck yeah,” San breathes out, turning his eyes away from Wooyoung. “Baby,” he addresses Wooyoung, reaching for both of his hands, sliding them from the hem of his dress. “Can we do this? Is this okay?” 

Wooyoung gulps down the minty extract. His eyes stray to Yeosang, who’s still smiling lightly. His eyes are alluring, glancing between Wooyoung and San, and he finds that all of these months of convincing himself that Yeosang hates him, might have been false. San had told him he was over it, but he didn’t believe him. 

Not until he has Yeosang here on his bed, speaking out the next words. “You two are really hot together. I’ve thought about it, you know.” Yeosang must still be able to read his mind still, even after the time apart. “I’m not mad at you Wooyoung. Not anymore,” he goes on. “I was at first. I was so angry and hurt. But when I thought about it and reflected,” Yeosang scoots, laying further back onto the pillows to get more comfy, “I knew why you did it.” 

San’s hands squeeze Wooyoung’s. He listens to every word as his heart flips. 

“I was so caught up in my life. My image,” he wisps his hand about to gesture to his room, to the party that’s still happening with the music blasting from downstairs. “I didn’t give you the time and attention you deserved. So I told myself San must have given you all of that. The faults I had, the gaps in our relationship... I knew you found it with San, and I wasn’t mad anymore. I’m happy for you. The both of you.” 

The words hang in the air. Wooyoung replays what Yeosang said, how it’s exactly what happened. He thought over time that Yeosang didn’t know why he cheated on him, why he found love with someone else. But in the end, he did. Or is this a new beginning. 

“Great!” San exclaims, breaking the silence with an excited grin. “I’ve been begging Wooyoung for weeks to let us sleep with you.” 

Wooyoung makes a garbled noise while Yeosang laughs. 

“Oh hush,” San playfully slaps Wooyoung. “Don’t act like you didn’t think about it as much as me. I’ve seen the way you look at him, baby.” 

San starts to slide slowly off the bed, dropping to his knees as he moves between Wooyoung’s legs. He first works on loosening Wooyoung’s boots, carefully removing them from his feet. He then drags his palms upwards along the textured fishnet, opening Wooyoung’s legs further. When the thigh highs end and he’s greeted with silken, warm skin, San discovers the droplets of Wooyoung’s precum staining his thigh. 

“Oh, what do we have here?” San giggles, and he looks at Yeosang. “He’s already so wet, ‘Sang. The sweet angel’s been making a mess in his panties.” 

Yeosang emits an audible groan at that. 

Wooyoung’s breaths shorten, San’s fingers starting to knead and circle along his tip. He spreads the fresh drops of pearls that dribble out of his slit. 

“Can I have a taste?” Yeosang’s suddenly asking and Wooyoung thinks this is a fabricated movie from his mind's imaginary studio. 

“Mhm,” San’s lips curl at the edges, too eager to get this going. 

It doesn’t take long to have Wooyoung scoot up on the bed more, laying out horizontally on the wide mattress. The bed’s so large it doesn’t matter which way he lays, really. With Wooyoung sprawled backwards, San strokes his thighs and Yeosang finally moves out of his relaxed position. They’re both kneeling by him. San between his legs, Yeosang next to him. 

As they stare upon him, he feels like an entire meal laid out for the Greek God and the Devil. 

San doesn’t waste any more time in bunching the bottom of Wooyoung’s sweet, flirty dress up. They both gasp when they see how hard he is, his cock curved downward as it peeks halfway out of the bottom edge of his white, lacy panties. The tip is all flushed and bulbed, traces of his fluids coating his skin. 

It’s fascinating and exhilarating when Yeosang is the one to lean down. His pink, glossy lips attach to his tip, giving in easily as he gently laps at his slit. A second later Yeosang is moaning, his plush tiers drawing him in. His mouth is heated, lips soft, and his tongue is magic as it pushes against Wooyoung’s cock. His lips slide further along him, Wooyoung’s cock lifting from his thigh, making his panties stretch with the tug. Yeosang starts to bob his mouth along him, letting the saliva collect, wetly working back and forth as his lips seal tighter. His cheeks hollow out as he drags himself further on Wooyoung’s cock, so far that a filthy, wet noise leaves his throat as his lips make contact with his panties. 

All the while, San’s been undoing his dress, loosening the strings. When that’s done and Wooyoung can breathe more easily, San pulls the top of his dress down and descends to let his lips frame his nipple. He suckles on the bud avidly, tongue laving along him as he nips and sucks some more. Openly mouthing on him, Wooyoung shudders beneath both of those mouths that are drinking him up. He feels someone’s fingers grab at his balls, rolling the orbs heavily between their hand. 

His cock throbs so hard, Yeosang thoroughly swallowing him, San groaning out at the sounds Yeosang’s lips make as they catch on his skin. His boyfriend pulls from a puffy nipple, turning to watch as Yeosang’s pushed the panties aside in order to take Wooyoung’s entirety. Pretty lips swell as they coat along his length, feverish and languid at the same time. 

“Let me join,” San’s whispering shortly later. Wooyoung can only watch in suspended disbelief as he sees San’s pointed tongue, flick out and slide up the edge of Wooyoung’s cock as Yeosang’s lips frame on the tip. Yeosang gives space for San to join, now mouthing and licking along one side, while San is huffing warm breaths and messily dragging his tongue along the other side. 

They work together, dropping down to the base where they swirl their tongues. Then they aim higher towards the tip, planting kiss after kiss mixed with more indulgent licks. And as Wooyoung watches with bated breath, when they meet at the top of his dick, their eyes meet for the briefest of seconds before they’re kissing. 

The kiss is a slow entanglement of their lips, giving Wooyoung short glimpses of their tongues sliding past one another between the seams of their mouths. He can see San suck on Yeosang’s bottom lip, noisily sucking on it before he lets it snap back into place.

He’s so entranced he forgot about his dick. Until both boys start to take turns with swallowing Wooyoung whole. They alternate their lips sliding down from the crest of his tip, gliding all the way down to the base, popping off with a satisfied groan before the next one repeats the process. Wooyoung’s going to cum like this.

The last act that shoves him over the edge is seeing Yeosang grab Wooyoung’s cock by the base, and in the middle of everyone’s tense need for pleasure, all wound up and dazed, he takes his dick and starts to slap it heavily against San’s cheek. His hard flesh bobs against San’s lovely face and Wooyoung moans out, “Fuck…” Yeosang smirks, his eyes full of a glint, as he then starts to tap Wooyung’s cock agains San’s parting lips, smearing and rolling his head right along his boyfriend’s pillowy bottom lip. 

Wooyoung’s body constricts and he cries out, jerking in a helpless manner as he shoots his load right there. San’s lashes flutter closed in surprise as his cum streaks along his lips, past them onto his nose and even further up onto his closed lids and part of his hair. Wooyoung shudders and rolls his hips through his orgasm, heat pulsing through his body and head. Yeosang fists him, helping to milk him dry. 

When his climax is finally over and starts to subside, Wooyoung can see through his own heavy lids how Yeosang takes his time in kissing and licking up Wooyoung’s release from San’s face. Cupping San’s sharp cheekbones, he works down from his lashes, to his nose, to his lips. From there Wooyoung sees in a foggy haze how they exchange Wooyoung’s white, thick ropes of cum between their tongues. 

This has to be the single most hottest thing he’s ever seen. And now he is wondering why he didn’t cave in sooner to San’s requests for a threesome. 

This must have charged so much heat and a desperate grapple for more. They’re helping one another get out of their costumes. Wooyoung feels two pairs of hands slide his dress off his body as he holds his hands up. His panties are tugged off next but they leave on the white fishnet thigh highs, both of them complimenting how pretty he looks. His halo? Long gone. 

He and Yeosang tug San roughly out of his black corset, tossing it aside and the process of peeling his vibrant red leotard off is a feast. Wooyoung’s zipping it undone while Yeosang’s kneading his palms generously against his ass, feeling the soft fat among the toned muscle of San’s cheeks. Wooyoung watches as he sees Yeosang’s fingers slide along the skin tight material between San’s curves, purposeful as he teases over his boyfriend’s clothed hole no less. San moans, all wanton and low, allowing Wooyoung and Yeosang to tug the rest of his leotard off. San has no underwear on, couldn’t even dream of wearing any underneath that. His cock is hard, a frustrated flush of red. 

Wooyoung reaches out to stroke him lovingly a few times, planting soft kisses to his shoulders. “You’re still a devil, babe. With or without your costume.” 

Now they both turn to Yeosang. His outfit is easy to remove. Everything on him is barely holding on anyone and it takes a few tugs onto Yeosang is naked. It all snaps into place right then, as soon as they see Yeosang’s legs bent and spread, resting back on his elbows. 

“Fuck, I call first!” San howls out a laugh as he reaches for the bottle of lube. He climbs on top of Yeosang’s lap who’s also chuckling, his knees bracketing Yeosang’s waist. San leans over to indulge in another lengthy kiss with Yeosang. He licks into Yeosang’s mouth, delving his tongue past warm lips and swallowing up any of those low, sensual noises he makes. 

Positioned behind San, Wooyoung takes the lube and after coating his fingers with the clear fluid, rubbing it between his fingertips to warm it up, he soon has a finger dipping into San’s rim. Wooyoung could find his entrance blindfolded, really, the act alone so habitual as he knows how San likes it. 

Shallow and quick little pumps, he doesn’t make him wait long before he’s pushing in further. That makes San keen with a faltering moan and he’s teetering over, his ass in the air as it becomes exposed to Wooyoung completely. 

His thighs apart, Wooyoung reaches up with his free hand to use his thumb and spread those cheeks even more, met with the lovely sight of San’s puckered hole taking in his finger. Now two, as Wooyoung lets another join. Two fingers rotate inside of him, stretching his walls and filling him up. San starts to bounce his ass back on Wooyoung’s hand, clearly wanting him deeper and needing more. San’s bared cock bobs with his demanding actions, still enveloped in a hot, searing kiss with Yeosang. Yeosang who reaches back and grabs at San’s ass, being the one to let his fingers dimple into San’s mounds and ease him open. 

“Open up for me,” Yeosang’s murmuring before his words are lapped up by more kisses. 

Wooyoung’s able to fuck San more thoroughly now, fingers thrusting into him so that his other fingers are nudged against his skin. His free hand reaches down to stroke San’s cock, watching it leak all over Yeosang’s abdomen. Wooyoung curves his fingers, feeling that silken, swollen gland and he rubs past it, causing San to jerk and mewl. Becoming more urgent, San’s body rocks, making the kiss with Yeosang clumsy. 

Thinking he’s prepared his boyfriend enough, Wooyoung pulls his fingers free much to San’s disapproval. He makes a withering noise as he must have stopped kissing Yeosang for he’s heaving out between pants. “Hurry it up, babe. Need him. Want to feel Yeosang’s cock in me. God, look at him, he’s so big.” 

Wooyoung knows he’s big. He’s spent many nights and mornings forcing himself down on that thick cock. 

When Wooyoung reaches below San’s body, touching Yeosang’s arousal, feeling it twitch in his hold, this familiarity takes over. Long and slow strokes, he gulps as he hears Yeosang’s groans. They send shivers down his back. 

Tugging the condom over that large cock, the base of it stopping about an inch short from his balls. Adding more lube, his fist twisting and working feverishly over Yeosang’s cock now, to tell them they’re ready, Wooyoung takes his wet, slicked fingers and slaps them right over San’s hole. San squeals and jumps, but it’s quickly followed by a throaty moan, his hole visibly fluttering. 

Being the one to guide Yeosang’s cock to San’s entrance, he watches with an unblinking gaze as he sees the curved tip of Yeosang’s cock stretch along San’s rim. He hears his boyfriend gasp, and slowly he lowers himself, until Yeosang’s tip is pushing past the initial tightness and soon being engulfed by San’s hot frame. 

The rhythm starts off slow, even if he knows his lover wants to go quick and hard. It’s all you can do when presented with a cock as large as Yeosang’s. So Wooyoung watches the thick member, curved and all taut, being taken in bit by bit by San’s clenching and unclenching hole. It’s a sight, a wonderful one. And Wooyoung for the first time tonight has a thought that he could see this again and again. 

He shoves that fucking thought away real quick. 

When the two start to get more into it, San’s body adjusting to Yeosang’s girth, their hips begin to rock together more. San’s lithe and athletic build, naturally flexible as he makes it look easy riding most of Yeosang’s cock. Then there’s Yeosang, powerful in his thighs as he rocks his huge dick up into San’s narrow body. 

Wooyoung can see how San’s trying to get Yeosang to bottom out, how he moans and whimpers and with each fluid thrust of their hips, he’s sinking a little bit more down him. Wooyoung moves to kneel beside San who’s sitting more upright, trying to use his weight to get lower. Wooyoung brushes San’s blonde hair from his face. “You’re doing well, babe. You’re taking him like a fucking champ.” 

San just nods, lips slack as he pants. His hard length flicks up and down with each hard movement between them. Wooyoung reaches down to seize him, rubbing his palm and fingers expertly over him, invoking soft whines from his boyfriend. He sees the way Yeosang’s fingers strongly grip into San’s hips, his jaw set and perfectly shaped eyebrows terse. 

When they’re close, San about a centimeter away from taking all of Yeosang’s cock, he hears Yeosang rasp about, “Wooyoung.” 

Wooyoung snaps his gaze over to lock eyes. “I want you to fuck me while I keep fucking San.” 

Oh boy. Wooyoung’s cock which has by now gotten hard all over again, seems to agree with that suggestion. 

“Yes, babe,” San agrees, his hooded eyes, all tantalizing and dangerous, sweep over Wooyoung’s face. He reaches out now to pull Wooyoung in, their mouths slotting together. The coordination is nonexistent, just a lewd, desperate clambering of mouths. 

When they pull back, only the agility in all of them allows Yeosang to roll over with San while still buried deep into his body. Wooyoung takes the bottle of lube, uncapping it and repeating what he did earlier, this time though, thrusting his fingers seamlessly into Yeosang’s tight hole while he doesn’t let up on fucking into San. 

It’s entirely hot, to see the way Yeosang pushes wantonly back onto Wooyoung’s scissoring digits, only to barrel forward and hit San deep in his core. He can tell because San makes these little helpless squeaks, like the air is being shoved right out of him. Strapping a condom onto his own dick, slicking it up, he positions himself at Yeosang’s entrance. He feels him slow down and pause. 

Everyone’s heaving out labored breaths, thriving with anticipation. As Wooyoung nudges his hips forward, sinking into the sweltering heat that is Yeosang’s frame, it only takes him a few, deliberate thrusts before he’s bottoming out. The two were still waiting with shared whimpers, halted in their actions to allow Wooyoung to immerse himself into it. 

“Fuck, Yeo,” he groans out, his knees digging into the bed, his hands trembling some as they roam up and down Yeosang’s sculpted back. 

Finally, they begin to move in unison. As Wooyoung pulls back, he doesn’t have to do much work because Yeosang’s moving with him, arching back only to rock forward. San quietly cries out. 

Falling into this unwritten chorus of pleased noises, paired with a natural synced rhythm, the three of them become prisoners of the moment. San on the bottom easily gets plowed each time Wooyoung plows forward, only to push Yeosang into him as well. The added weight of Wooyoung’s thicker, taut frame sends Yeosang all the way inside of San. He fills him up completely, his heavy balls nestled against his cheeks. San is breathless. 

That’s when it hits. In the steady flow of them moving in tandem, a trio of figures that rock and rut together, chasing their climax. 

When all of a sudden Wooyoung starts to notice the difference in his senses. His head, feels heavier and his vision. Certain things around him are more vibrant, magnified as he watches in a stupor. Right now he can see San’s face beyond Yeosang’s shoulder. His expressions stand out to him while everything else has a slow melting wave to it. 

One moment Yeosang’s groans as his ass cheeks clench around Wooyoung from thrusting hard into San, is all muffled background noise. Then the second, it’s loud and clear in his ears. Wooyoung’s smiling, and he laughs. 

He straight up laughs in delight, his body shaking with the sudden increase to sensitivity. It’s all somehow amusing to him and he feels so fucking elated, soaring ten feet above the ground. 

It must have hit the other two as well, for they’re giggling too. San’s eyebrows shoot high as he has a smile slapped on his face, his eyes looking about in awe. He reaches up to play with Yeosang’s pretty blonde waves and he must be seeing something extra fascinating about them. 

Yeosang’s laughter rings in the air between them. His movements stutter about as he’s distracted by something. 

Everything around them starts to blend. The curtains on the bed posts become one with the wood. The expensive silk cotton sheets mix with the pillows. And their bodies, starting to thrust and arch about as pleasure ensues, their orgasms on the brink, become one connected unit. They can’t tell where one person ends and where the next begins. 

Wooyoung just knows he has to grind into Yeosang, has to swivel and rotate his hips. He just knows he has to kiss hot kisses into Yeosang’s back, to teeth and lick at his skin. He just knows he has to make this one of the best fucking orgasms he’s ever had, so that he can wake up tomorrow and have zero regrets. 

A cry unleashes into the air. Then another. Followed by a third. 

Whose was whose is unknown as they tremble and shake, grasping onto one another for dear life. Spurts of warm droplets powerfully spring forth from San’s cock. Wooyoung fills the end of his condom while buried balls deep in Yeosang. And Yeosang cums only to suck a mark into San’s neck. 

The rest of it is a daze. Wooyoung’s still floating ten feet in the air as they manage to clean up. He’s not sure what he even does other than collapse onto the spacious bed and wait for the sheets to be tugged around him. Somewhere along the way his fishnets had been removed. Kisses are pressed into his skin. Two sets of them. 

When Wooyoung stares up at the ceiling that’s moving and spinning, twirling about with random bursts of color, he thinks this is one of the happiest moments of his life. 

San curled up against his side, breathing softly on his skin as he burrows more snugly. 

And Yeosang on the other, lips brushing along his skin still, mouthing sweet kisses while his fingers find their way to San’s. 

\--

The sun is bright, pouring in from the floor to ceiling windows, filling up so much space and giving so much heat that Mingi can’t sleep in even if he wants to. A part of him regrets not planning ahead and pulling the curtains shut--wait a fucking second, where is he? 

“Rise and shine, you losers!” 

Startled, his heart alarmingly shooting up into his throat, Mingi clutches at the sheets to make sure they’re covering the important bits of himself. He often sleeps naked so he’s used to that. Looking up, he spots Jongho. 

Jongho’s at the foot of the bed downing what looks like a protein shake. 

“So it finally happened,” Jongho remarks, an impish grin growing on his face. 

Beside him, Mingi feels another body stir and he looks over, knowing exactly who it is before laying eyes on the most handsomely perfect face in existence. 

“What’re you doing in here?” he hears the gravely rasp of Yunho’s voice, completely sexy and heart rendering. Yunho’s no longer in his puffy Thor costume. He might even be just as naked as Mingi with how much skin is showing. Bare shoulders, bare chest, a thin layer of sheets draped along his stomach. Tan skin with a few visible freckles. 

Mingi gulps. 

“Just wanted to see if Yeosang owes me ten bucks or not. Looks like he does,” Jongho cackles and before he gets hit with a pillow he heads hastily for the door. “Hurry it up! Before Yeosang’s maid comes in and find you! You don’t want to give Mrs. Han a heart attack!” 

The door slams shut behind Jongho, the smaller boy too strong for his own good. 

Now that there’s silence in the room, Mingi peers over slowly. He sees Yunho’s bright face, eyes squinting due to the sun, his blue pastel hair shining in the morning glow. He lifts up a long arm to shield some of the sun from his eyes to better look at Mingi. 

Mingi’s heart drops. Into oblivion where it’s eternally lost. 

“I-I-I should go,” Mingi starts to stammer out, looking around in a panic for his shorts. There they are! He reaches over the side of the bed while tightly clutching onto the sheets. 

“You’re leaving already?” Yunho asks while Mingi refuses to look back at him. 

It’s a short battle beneath the sheets to hurriedly pull on his shorts without throwing them off. Even if they apparently fucked last night, he still has some shameful modesty left in him. 

“You heard Jongo. The maid, Mrs. Han,” Mingi uses as an excuse to get the h e l l out of here. His heart is racing and his face is searing in the hottest of flames. 

“Yeah, but he’s just joking. She doesn’t clean the rooms until after noon when there’s a party,” Yunho evenly speaks as Mingi rolls off the bed, almost tripping on the sheets tangled around his legs. He stands up straight, his red shorts now on, while he looks around for his red vest. 

“Okay, well. I...I have an assignment due,” Mingi uses another lame excuse and he finds his flip flops but not his fucking vest. 

Fuck the red vest. 

Swiping his phone off the bedside table, he looks at Yunho. He pauses. Yunho looks so adorable with this round eyes peering up at Mingi, his cotton candy soft hair all fluffed and tousled on his head. The sheets are now barely covering his hips. 

It was just a day ago he was jerking off to Yunho in his thoughts. And now here he is in the living flesh. 

And for the fucking life of him, Mingi can’t remember a damn thing from the night before. This is karma. For all those times he replaced the lube in WooSan’s bottles with vinegar. 

“Listen I had a great time,” Mingi starts to babble, now hastily moving towards the door. “The best time even!” He corrects, the words falling from him so fast. He watches as Yunho sits up straighter, looking absolutely confused. “I-I’ll see you around, yeah?” Mingi doesn’t even wait for an answer before he’s swinging the door open and shutting it hard behind him. 

He shuffles fast out of the house, running down the stairs, hoping to not be seen by anyone else. When he makes it outside, still scurrying down the long gravel driveway to the road, he’s quickly fumbling with his phone to open it up and order himself a car service. 

Heart still winding and beating a mile a minute, Mingi watches as his phone confirms a car is on its way. 

Once he’s by the street, he finally can breathe again. 

Standing there, still in shock as he tries to recap the events from the night before, the last thing he truly remembers is Yunho showing him photos of his puppy. They were curled up on a loveseat, their bodies too big to fit comfortably but it was okay, because they were snug and Yunho was warm. He does remember looking up at Yunho, meeting his gaze, wishing right then and there they’d kiss. 

And that was it. Everything after that is a blank. 

“You had sex with the man of your dreams but you were too fucking drunk to remember,” Mingi scolds himself in quiet disbelief. “Song Mingi, you fucking dumbass.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. If you must know, I planned the Wooyoung x Yeosang x San threesome over summer and writing it now, just makes it all the more precious and sweet! 
> 
> Anyways, what will be the aftermath of Mingi's tomfoolery and when dafuq will Seongjoong just confess their feelings already??? 
> 
> Leave a comment if you enjoyed it!

**Author's Note:**

> Yep. This is a thing now. I'm already working on the next chapter so an update will be soon!


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